A Mysterious Package
by plaidphoenix
Summary: After the death of her 'husband', Lucy Saxon receives a strange package and isn't sure what to make of it.


"Excuse me, ma'am," the mysterious man in the dapper grey suit says.

"Yes?" you reply, recognizing him as one of your husband's cronies but not quite remembering his name.

"Your husband," the mysterious man says, "after he was elected, he gave me a parcel to keep safe and that I was to give it to you if anything ever happened to him."

"I see," you say, though you really don't. Doesn't this nobody realize that I killed him? That I killed my husband? No, obviously he doesn't.

"Anyway, ma'am," the crony says, though I'm barely registering his words at this point, I'm still numb from what happened on the Valiant. "This is the package. Your husband, well, he suggested that you open it in private. Very sorry for your loss, ma'am."

And with that, the crony disappears, leaving me in a tattered red dress on a deserted airstrip holding a package from my dead husband that I'm not certain I even want to open.

Somehow, I manage to make it to a flat that I purchased some years ago as a go-to place in case of danger. I leave the mysterious package on the table and treat myself to a hot shower. No bubble bath for me, I feel too disgusting, dirty and disheveled to even contemplate that kind of luxury.

Dressing myself in some common street clothes I had someone purchase from whoever knows where, I sit at the table, a mug of tea in my hands and stare almost vacantly at the package. I know I should be more curious, but part of me doesn't care in the slightest and it's this part of me that is urging that I throw the damn thing away, whatever it is, and get on with picking up the fragments of my life.

_Oh look! Rocks!_

_You have absolutely no sense of responsibility whatsoever!_

It must be stress that's making me feel this way. Either that or I'm going mad. Or both. It could be fun I suppose, in a demented sort of fashion. But I suspect I'm about to give in to exhaustion and that will probably sober my perspective to some extent.

_Regenerating._ _Do you like it?_

_But you can't wear that body! _

_I though it looked very nice on the princess._

Oh, I wish I was drunk, then I wouldn't feel like I've got such a wretched hangover. But at least I got a good sixteen hours sleep.

I should call my parents, let them know I'm alright. Though how I'm going to explain everything is beyond me. Yes, that's right, my husband was actually a 900 year old alien intent on taking over the world as well as global genocide and I didn't do anything to stop him until it was blatantly obvious to everyone that he was going to loose. Not to mention that Parliament will probably do me for treason.

_You're capricious, arrogant, self-opinionated, irrational, and you don't even know where we're going_

Alright, let's sort out this package then. If he thought it important enough to send to me from beyond the grave, I might as well piss him off by dropping it down the loo.

Here we go, tear the paper here, tear the paper there, remove wrapping paper from package and dispose of by tossing on the floor. Interesting, a jewelry box, I don't suppose he bought me a diamond studded negligee from Harrods's did he?

A fob watch? A silver fob watch? Is that all? For all the scheming? Conniving? All the manipulating, blackmailing and extortion to put him into power and all I get is a ruddy fob watch?

There! Throwing it across the room and hearing it impact into the wall with a rather loud thud does feel slightly better.

_Whenever you go into a new situation, you must always believe the best until you find out exactly what the situation's all about. Then, believe the worst. _

_Ah, but what happens if it turns out not to be the worst after all? _

_Don't be ridiculous. It always is. _

Where is that glow coming from? Blast! It's that ruddy watch! It's his revenge on me for doing him in. That has to be it. Damn thing will probably explode in my face as soon as I go to pick it up.

_Well, if one has godlike powers, one ought to be able to use them, oughtn't one? _

Hold on. What's happening? Oh bugger, I'm dying. The bastard actually managed to kill me from beyond the grave.

_I do wish you'd stop treating me like a child, Doctor. I'm nearly a hundred and forty, you know._

The Doctor! This is all his fault.

It's always been his fault. Racing around the galaxy, not a care in the world to anyone but himself.

The Key to Time, the Daleks, the High Council, the Daleks, Daleks, Daleks. It's always the Daleks with him. Like some childhood game where you never care about the chaos and destruction you cause to those around you.

You should have wiped them out when you had the chance, Doctor.

You should have wiped me out when you had the chance.

I will have my revenge. Oh, yes. I will have my revenge on you, Doctor for everything you have done to me. Every act, every deed, every failing, every misstep.

I will see you burn as you sat and watched Gallifrey burn. I will see you destroyed as you destroyed everything I fought so hard to protect and preserve.

Run while you can, Doctor. Run and I shall find you.

I know who I am. I finally know who I am.

My name is Romanadvoratrelundar and I am a Time Lord.


End file.
